Deja Vu Dark Rituals
by Blown
Summary: HPLV. Tom Riddle met a necromancer named Hadrian Evans. Together, they strove to achieve immortality and rule the world-eventually accomplishing both. But... not before Dumbledore kills Hadrian. Twenty years later, a Harry Potter is born. Now he is eleven and about to attend Hogwarts. Updates weekly... or so I try.
1. Chapter 1: The Statue

**Note:** There is no prophecy in this story. Not the one we all know, at least. Snape never overheard anything when auditioning for the role of defense against the dark arts teacher. Lord Voldemort never tried to kill baby Harry Potter. James and Lily were killed by the Dark Lord for other reasons, but Harry is unscathed, and has never been marked. The Dark Lord was never vanquished, and Albus Dumbledore is presumed dead.

 **A/N:** This story is kind of a culmination of a lot of a lot of HPTR I've read. I've always liked the idea of HPLV and I thought it would just make sense if HP was friends/lovers with Voldemort when they were both young. And Harry died, but was reborn as Harry Potter. And then that was interesting, because who's side would he be on? All that became this giant plot bunny that will hopefully turn into a story that you guys will enjoy reading. Maybe?

I really enjoy writing this stuff so I hope you enjoy reading it.

~*~Dark Rituals~*~

Miss Macmillan demanded that Hadrian hold her hand for their entire excursion in diagon alley.

The streets were filled with people, slightly hushed, but no where near as afraid as they were of Voldemort. That was a good sign. Voldemort's meticulous security had inspired some confidence, it seemed. Hadrian once again felt himself a little disappointed that he had been left out. At the time, he had not thought. On the grounds of Hogwarts, during the last battle, he saw Albus Dumbledore cast the killing curse straight at Voldemort's back. Using the entire reserves of his magic, he made the necromancer's sacrifice, and threw himself in the way of that green light. Hadrian Evans had died before his body hit the ground.

As he had done the necromancy rituals to shield himself from the normal process of having one's memories removed to enter the afterlife, he had a pleasant stay in "the great beyond", with all his memories intact. Then, of course, his soul was given a rebirth. How quaint that he was born as another dark-haired, orphaned half-blood, also called Hadrian. This time, he was Hadrian Potter. And while he fully knew that Tom would not have lazed the days away since his departure, he was not expecting such a great kingdom to await his return.

Of course, Harry could have visited earlier, he had been alive for eleven years, after all. But he really had no wishes to be around Tom until he was of age—the status of a minor and the looks that accompanied it would make too much of a weakness. So he had waited, done some things, until he was contacted at his muggle relatives residence by a witch with a letter. His Hogwarts letter, of course.

Magic was explained to him, and he acted the correct part, but he was really thinking of diagon alley.

As they walked, it was most of the old stores, many new items had been invented. What he wasn't expecting was a fountain as tall as the nearest shop, one of himself around the age that he died. He was in a dueling pose, his face a mask of innocence and intelligence and seduction and loyalty. A snake was wrapped around his body, its head beside his own stone one. He stared.

"Statue of the great Hadrian Evans—a wizard and powerful necromancer that took down Hogwarts itself." Miss Macmillan explained. She was a young teacher's assistant at Hogwarts in her final year. She shuddered. "His sacrifice is what freed magic, so we are able to practice all types of magic today. Probably who you're named after."

If only she knew…

Tom had made a statue? Of him? But after that little spiel of propaganda it all made sense. Hadrian Evans would be a hero that little kids would look up to. Dueller, powerful, loyal. He noticed how the snake was not Nagini, but more like Voldemort himself. And its coils dug tight on his neck. The dark lord was possessive. And he noticed that there was a ring on his hand that was around the snake. The gaunt ring. The one he had destroyed so he could not be resurrected. And the dark lord was angry.

This was also made to send a message to him. He wanted to be dead? If he came back, he would be held in tighter and tighter coils. He would no longer have that option. It was also a challenge.

Hadrian felt a sick thrill rush through him as he thought of the challenge ahead. He allowed Ms Macmillan to lead him further into diagon alley.

~*~HPLV~*~

 **A/N:** And that's the first chapter! I am looking for a ideas people may have about the main plot for first year. Lord Voldemort is not going to try to break into Hogwarts to get the Philosopher's Stone anymore, so what should Harry be battling?

And any thoughts about the story so far would be lovely.

I was also thinking about updating this regularly. I wanted to say weekly, but do you think that's too spaced out? And what day should it be, if weekly or bi-weekly?

Love y'all,

Blownnnneeeee


	2. Chapter 2: Malfoy

A/N: An update! Thanks for everyone who reviewed. Replies to some reviews:

AnimeBook's Yeah I'm excited that Harry's a necromancer too.

Guest Hey, any ideas for the Harry/Tom interaction would be super. I don't want to give too much away but… haha.

And now for the update:

~*~ Dark Rituals ~*~

"Now, your parents left you quite the amount of money young man. Don't worry about the costs to go to school. You only have access to money now, mind you. When you are of age, you will have access to all the Potter vaults and estates. They are a very old and wealthy pureblood family."

Hadrian made his eyes widen at the knowledge. Truthfully, he didn't care about inheritance. He was the Evangelica-Valduez heir, where he got his necromancer genes from, and he had two estates. One small condo in downtown France, and a beautiful estate in the mountains near Germany. They were both simple, tasteful, wealthy, and filled to the brim with powerful magics.

Then again, Evangelica-Valduez did not have a seat in the Wizenmagotz.

Not that they had much of a say now that Tom was running things. Tom.

His heart clenched in anticipation when he thought of the man. For a moment he let his emotions run through him. All he wanted was to throw himself into his arms, see his face, the arrogant smirk, the careful way Tom would always study him, the deadly lines down each pane of his face. As he let the emotion sweep through him, he calmly acknowledged and accepted it, then let it pass again.

Tom and him thrived on games. He would meet Tom again. It was never a question. But he would need to lay his plan into motion, for that meeting to be all the more exciting. Going to Tom unprepared was never a good idea.

An image of the snake winding possessively around him, tenderly around his neck, flashed in his mind.

Harry and Miss McMillan entered a well to do clothing shop. Harry was gestured onto a stool to be fitted and ended up beside a pompous looking blonde. "Hogwarts, are you?" The pointy boy inquired as they stood on respective stools.

"Yes."

"What house do you think you'll be sorted in?"

"Slytherin, I suppose." Harry hadn't given much thought to it. But the boy's eyes lit up.

"Slytherin is the best house, my father says. My family has been in that house for generations."

"Indeed?"

"Yeah. Though Ravenclaw wouldn't be bad. But imagine you were sorted into Hufflepuff. I would leave, wouldn't you?"

He knew quite the amazing man that was once in Hufflepuff. "Well, Hufflepuffs are kind of cute."

Being disagreed with gave the young Malfoy a temporary ugly face. But it quickly passed. He snorted. "Yeah, if you like that sort of thing. I guess we do need a house like that, otherwise, how would people even know that Slytherin is great?"

Hadrian narrowed his eyes. He had chosen to go into Slytherin and not Hufflepuff all those years ago. And now it seemed, people thought everyone good was in Slytherin. "I like Hufflepuff."

"You do?"

"Yes. They are very loyal and hardworking and turn out some of the most reliable and great wizards we have. Not everyone can be a dark lord, and there is no shame to aspiring lower."

Malfoy gaped at him. But he was done his fitting. He hopped down from his stool.

As Malfoy saw him go with Miss Macmillan he sneered. "You're a mudblood, aren't you?"

Everyone around him gasped.

Hadrian's eyes narrowed. Others had called him that when he was young. Having the last name of Evans in Slytherin had not been the easiest start.

"There is nothing to be ashamed about that either." Hadrian said firmly, meeting the boy's eyes. "But you don't even know my name."

Rather uncharacteristically, Hadrian walked away without saying anything. He didn't want to make a complete enemy before he had even arrived at Hogwarts.

"Good day, Mr. Malfoy." He said instead.

He swept out of the store to the cold autumn air and a shocked Miss Macmillan followed him.

~*~ Dark Rituals ~*~

 **A/N:**

Thanks and keep the reviews coming nothing pushes me to update faster than hearing what you guys think. And hope everyone has a happy holidays!


	3. Chapter 3: Ollivanders

~*~Dark Rituals~*~

"How did you know who that boy was?" Miss Macmillan enquired when they were some distance away. Harry had stopped striding away and allowed Miss Macmillan to lead him towards Olivanders. They still needed a wand.

"Newspaper." Hadrian said shortly. _He talked exactly like his grandfather_ would hardly go over well.

"Ah."

They didn't say anything more as they started going into the shop, the soft jingle of bells announcing their arrival. Behind the counter was an old man with intense green eyes. Pale green really. His wrinkled face hadn't seemed to change from the last time Hadrian was here.

"Mr. Harry Potter." Olivander said. "Well met." He pushed his spectacles on his nose further. "Well met indeed."

"Mr. Olivander." Miss Macmilland interrupted, "Mr. Potter requires a wand."

"Ah, Miss Macmillan. Rowan and Phoenix feather, eleven and three quarters, nice and flexible. Great wand for protective enchantments. And I quite believe the saying that there has never been a rowan wand that has gone out to do evil in the world."

Miss Macmillan blushed, a nice pink colour that brought life to her flat cheeks.

"Mr. Potter." He nodded. "Could you hold out your wand arm?"

Harry lifted his right arm and measuring tapes zoomed out from the dusty shelves behind him. Busily they measured his forearm, his fingers, his wrist, and then his height. While this was happening, Mr. Olivander was happily humming to himself. Putting his hand in some boxes he brought out a pale white wand.

Harry grasped it but nothing happened. "Nope." Mr. Olivander decided. "Try this one."

A nice brown wand with blue threads in the wood grain. "No."

A deep brown wood with knots every few centimeters. "Not this one."

The wand selecting process continued.

One wand after another was placed in his hand, but none felt right. Then finally, a thin, deep wood wand was placed in his hands. It had streaks of dark red through it black-brown wood. There was no notch or lines for a handle, the wand merely was thick in diameter at one end and grew thinner as it extended. The wand was slightly curved and performed one single twist for the entirety of its length. When Harry's fingers touched it, a light shone from within it, giving the room a warm pink glow, dancing red and yellow sparks flying out of the end.

"Ah!" Olivander clapped. "What a curious choice! Curious indeed!"

"I'm sorry, but what is curious?"

"Cherry and dragon heartstring. It just happens that I have only sold one other wand of this combination. That was to a very happy Chinese woman who had travelled around the world for her wand."

"Er."

"The cherry wood is rare, and of a strange power. If paired with dragon heartstring, as in this case, it should never be paired with a wizard that does not have exceptional self-control and strength of mind."

"I think it is safe to expect great things from you, Mr. Potter. Strange, but great."

Hadrian left that store with a feeling of dread. No matter what he did he could not shake it off.

"Why do you think he called me 'Harry' Potter?" Hadrian asked Miss Macmillan.

"Did he?" She blinked. "I don't know."

"In fact, he knew my name before you introduced me."

"Well he probably knew your parents." She continued. "And it is rare for a magical child to grow up with muggles."

"Other than mudbloods?"

At this, Miss Macmillan shifted uncomfortably. "That is a very offensive word, Hadrian. You should use it with more caution. If at all. But to answer your question, muggleborns are given their letters a year before those born in the magical world, to be tutored before they arrive at Hogwarts, and given that time to decide whether becoming part of the magical world is what they desire."

"What happens if they don't want to be magic?"

"Their magic is bound by a safe process and their knowledge of this world is obviated."

"Is it uncommon, people like me?"

"Not that uncommon, I'm afraid. There were a lot of orphans after the war. A few ended up with muggle relatives. You would have been given the same option as the muggleborns, if we had found you. Excuse me." She moved to change the bricks to let them out into the leaky cauldron.

"Now, absolutely no magic before school. Keep your wand on you at all times. Here is your ticket for the Hogwarts Express. It leaves September the 1st. You can arrange your own transportation, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, that's it for now I assume. I do have a gift for you. A sort of proper welcome into the Wizarding World." From inside her robes she produced a small metal object that she waved her wand at, and it enlarged to be a metal cage holding the most beautiful, pure white snowy owl. "She's a little temperamental…" Miss Macmillan trailed off as Harry launched himself and hugged her. "Oh. That's quite alright dear."

It was rare for people to genuinely get him things without expecting anything back. And the busy stressed out girl in front of him had taken the time to do so. It was touching. "Thank you." Hadrian said once he was a few steps back again.

"You're welcome, Hadrian." The lady gave him a rather fond smile. "I will see you on September the first then. And around at Hogwarts. If you get sorted into Gryffindor, you will see even more of me."

"Bye, Miss Macmillan."

The lady waved as Harry left the leaky cauldron, lightly dragging his trunk with him.

~*~HPLV~*~

 **A/N:** What do you think? I had to do some research to decide on Harry's wand.

 **Longer A/N:** Thank you so much for reviewing! Christmas and New Years has been so hectic I wanted to get this up sooner but the things to do never ends! I haven't been on my computer for three days until last night-THAT was how busy things were. Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!


	4. Chapter 4: The Hogwarts Express pt 1

~*~HPLV~*~

September the first dawned bright and early. To be honest, Hadrian could not sleep very well. He was very nervous about the new day. He was not sure how his new peers would react to him. True, this time he had a pureblood name, but he did not have the luxury of doing whatever he wanted. Not if he wanted to stay undetected by the dark lord. Which would be a job and a half.

The man knew he had done the necromancy ritual. There would be concequences.

That morning he had merely picked up his packed trunk with everything he ever wanted to take with him from Private Drive, and caught a taxi to King's Cross. Not wanting to be too early, he sat on a bench with some muggles until it was half-past eleven. Then he approached the barrier.

A harem of red heads were blocking the way. They seemed to be arguing about who would cross first and he watched amusedly as the mother seemed to confuse her two twin sons before they both ran headfirst into the barrier. The mother was then accosted by a bushy haired girl, whom the mother took a pity on immediately, and seemed to be explaining the process to.

Hadrian walked closer.

"Now to main trick is to not stop running. Just keep going straight at it. Best do it at a run if you're nervous. Now go on."

The bushy haired girl gave him a curious look before running straight at the wall and disappearing too.

"First year as well, my dear?" The red haired witch said kindly to Harry.

"Yes, and I overheard the conversation..."

"That's alright dearie. Saves me from explaining twice. My son Ron is also a first year, yes you go on ahead Ronnie."

With a glare at that nickname, the lanky red head with something on his nose also disappeared through the wall between platforms nine and ten. "Off you go now, dearie." She said, giving him an encouraging push.

With a smirk, he allowed himself to walk calmly to the barrier and slide through. The moment he was out of the magic, he saw the gleaming red engine of the Hogwarts express. It was like coming home.

He quickly moved out of the way as more students poured out of the gateway and made his way onto the train. Hadrian quickly made up his mind that he didn't want that many friends. Acquaintances would be fine. He wanted to play the part of a Light wizard this time, but he didn't want to be a constant source of joy and happiness. Perhaps Ravenclaw would suit his needs in this lifetime.

But as he looked up and down the train, he realized to his dismay that every compartment was already full of upper years, having saved seats by apparating onto the train, and the only empty compartment seemed to be the one full with the lanky redhead and his rat. Hadrian wrinkled his nose. Though weak, this redhead's family had felt clean and Light as a greek yogurt. They were definitely a Light family. It would be a start.

"Anyone sitting here?" He asked.

The redhead shook his head, looking in dismay at his rat. "No. Feel free to take a seat."

No sooner had he sat down than a bushy haired witch, the same he had seen at the front, barged into their compartment. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." A lost looking boy was behind her sniffling, at his lost toad.

"No." Ron said shortly.

"Have you tried casting a summoning charm?" Hadrian enquired. "I've seen it work for one witch."

"That would be great if we could cast one!" The girl said irritated.

"Let's find an upper year that can." Hadrian insisted. "It will be much faster than looking through every compartment.

Ron grunted but they did end up trying to help.

No one they met seemed to want to help, however. And the fourth compartment they visited consisted of the young pointy-faced Malfoy and two huge boys that had bulks almost up to Dudley's standards. Hadrian's eyebrows rose. He would have thought that Malfoy would be trying to form connections. But from the look on his face, he seemed content to regal stupid and stupider with tales of his own superiority.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one. We're hoping to cast the summoning charm to find him. Could one of you do that?" Hermione said as the boys behind her just stared.

Malfoy seemed taken aback for a second. Then the superior smirk was back on his face. "Can't even keep track of a toad. And these people want to be wizards?" He and his cronies laughed with him.

Neville started shaking and looking like he was about to cry. And Ron's ears turned a weird shade of pink.

"How many of you have even tried to cast a spell? I bet none of them worked because that's how weak muggleborns and blood traitors are."

Ron was opening and closing his mouth but nothing was coming out. Harry was finding it difficult not to curse the arrogant Malfoy brat.

"If you didn't want to help, you could have just said so!" Hermione said, turning back to exit and close the door behind her. But Malfoy pulled his wand out. Before he could do anything, Harry said, "Protego." And a blue shield slid into place.

Malfoy's face was priceless. Whatever he was about to cast died on his lips as he stared at the perfect shield.

"I guess being pureblood doesn't make you good at everything." Harry said quietly. Then he elbowed and pushed the stunned Neville, Hermione and Ron back into the hallway, and said "Finite." Before closing the door.

Four faces stared back at him. "What was that." Ron breathed.

"It's just a shield charm." Harry shrugged. He found it difficult to not let a superior smirk on his face. Not because he felt surperior, but he had fallen into the habit of mimicking Tom's expressions. Just to gall him. But he crushed that instinct here. "Just second year."

" _Just_ second year?" Hermione screeched.

"Keep your voice down." Harry pleaded. "Let's—go back to the compartment ok?"


	5. Chapter 5: The Hogwarts Express pt 2

**A/N: An update! Omg yesterday I just reread Death of Today by Epic Solemnity. It is so good. So amazing. Every time I read it I just get more depth out of that story. What got me was how there was true compassion between the two and how they helped each other realize true love.**

 **Anyways, in _this story_ we're getting closer to Hogwarts, and thus, the sorting. Personally, I would like Harry sorted into Hufflepuff... but I don't think that will fit him. And I am bad at writing Slytherin because I am either a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff. I hope whatever it ends up being it makes for a good story. **

~*~HPLV~*~

Three faces stared at him expectantly.

"Well?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"Well what?"

"How are you able to do that? You're not even in first year. And well, what you did to the blonde guy-"

"Malfoy." Ron added helpfully.

"What you did to Malfoy was pretty incredible."

Neville looked like he was about to pee in his pants.

Harry shrugged. "It's the most basic spell you learn in defence. The shield charm. And as for how I did it. I just practiced, I guess."

"Just practiced?"

"I'm not special or anything." Harry said. Not in terms of performing the shield charm anyways. "I can practice something for a long time. I'm very persistent."

They seemed to accept this, abet grudgingly.

Ron chuckled. "I'm glad you did what you did. Did you see how he was going to hit Hermione with some spell? And the Weasleys and Malfoys have had a feud going back a couple of generations. We're like a big Light family and there hasn't been a Malfoy generation without some major Dark Wizards."

"Hey, who are you guys? I never did ask what your names were."

"N-Neville Longbottom." Ron's eyes widened at that.

"You're my second cousin, once removed!" Ron said excitedly.

"I-I am?" Neville said uncertainly.

"Hermione Granger, but you already knew that." They nodded.

"Hadrian Potter." He said.

Neville and Ron's eyes widened.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"O-our families were very close." Surprisingly it was Neville that spoke.

"We thought you'd been killed." Ron said. "Boy is my mom going to be happy to hear this."

"They announced I was dead?"

"Well, not really. You just weren't really around, you know? My parents would try to get together with old friends, and see their children, and it's just-we could never find you."

Neville shook but he said. "Gran didn't really like social gatherings."

"Well, that's nice that you're alive and all Harry, but I'm more concerned with the sorting. I've read all about it in Hogwarts, a History, of course, but it doesn't say how we'll be sorted. I'm thinking about Ravenclaw. Well, I considered Gryffindor, but it seems to be a somewhat ostercrised house right now, with what the Treachery of Albus Dumbledore and whatnot."

"Albus Dumbledore was a great man!" Ron said angrily, getting to his feet.

Hermione didn't flinch. "That's not what it says in Hogwarts, A History. Albus Dumbledore stood against the Dark Lord in his conquest and shot the killing curse at The Dark Lord's back. Hadrian Evans, the dark lord's most trusted right hand man, put himself in front of the spell and allowed the Dark Lord to turn and defeat Dumbledore."

The events flashed in front of Hadrian's eyes like it was yesterday. He watched as their army fought bravely on the snowy grounds of Hogwarts. The Light fought hard, but there were just too many dark creatures. He would not be lookingofward to the clean up after this battle. And then he saw it. Tom had his back to Dumbledore, duelling twelve powerful order members at once. His red eyes were narrowed in concentration as he took two out with a well placed slicing hex that was modified to rebound from victim to victim. And the moment a green beam of light started to well in front of the white bearded man's wand, Hadrian didn't think. He just reacted. Mumbling the last words to complete the necromancy ritual, he cast a wandless and non-verbal propelling charm to launched him in front of the light. The last thing he saw was the surprised face of Albus Dumbledore, as he glowed green from being his with another green beam. A most anguished scream, it had to be from Tom, and then everything was green.

"It's not like that!" Ron said angrily. "Albus Dumbledore was a great man."

Neville was tugging on Ron's sleeve. "I-I don't think you should praise the Dark Lord's rival on the Hogwarts Express."

Hadrian looked on with wide eyes. He would pretend he knew nothing of the history. The better to be brainwashed by the Light and be a member on their side. He asked some question about the war, what it was about, and Ron was all to happy to embark on this new topic. Neville and Hermione listened as well. He could tell from Hermione's facial expressions if Ron was being accurate to the history books. It was an altogether pleasant time, as the tension slowly left the compartment.

They chattered on about random things.

"My entire family's been in Gryffindor." Ron said.

"Really?" Hermione scoffed. "You don't have to be what your family does, you know. Why does it matter so much? To everyone? I mean, you say that blood purity is not important, but isn't that what it's about? That certain things can only be kept in families? I'm so angry! Just- Ugh!"

"If you don't have a family it can be a good thing. You can be sorted into whatever house you want."

"Well I think Gryffindor is the best house. I'm not choosing it because of my family, I am choosing it because I believe that it has the best qualities."

"What about you Neville?"

The boy didn't answer for a while. "Hufflepuff, I suppose."

"I want to be in Hufflepuff." Harry said.

"You do?"

"Er, no offense mate. But that's usually thought to be the house of duffers."

"I think hard work is often underrated. It is a very worthy characteristic, you know."

"Well, I think that's very refreshing." Hermione said.

~*~HPLV~*~


	6. Chapter 6: The Sorting Hat Song

All too soon they arrived at Hogwarts. This time a smiling Miss Macmillan led them to the boats. The four easily slipped into the same boat. Miss Macmillan led them across the lake in her own wooden, rickety boat, the one lantern in her hand lighting up the way. The lake was vast and black. Everything was dark. Then they turned a corner past some trees and the castle appeared directly above them. Gasps were heard. Hadrian smiled as he saw Hermione and Neville's stunned faces. Ron only looked bored, and he was grating on Harry's nerves. The boats docked in a cave where a staircase was at the end, the walls were natural cave but had torches every few steps. Shivering, the mass of first years followed Miss Macmillan up the slippery steps. At the top, they passed through a large wooden door, as tall as three men, and wide enough for more. Hadrian's mouth dropped open when he realized this was only a side door—the main one was huge. They were now in an entrance hall that could easily fit all the Dursley's house.

A stern witch introduced herself as Minerva McGonagall. She gave an explianation of the four houses, which Hadrian mostly tuned out.

"Trevor!" Neville suddenly shouted. A fat toad was sitting on one of the stone steps leading to the main door. Snickers were heard as he bent to pick up the toad.

Harry shook his head internally. That boy was going to be a bully _magnet_.

The ghosts made an appearance. Hadrian had forgotten about them. Surprisingly, they each studied him closely. This was attention he could do without " _Not now."_ Hadrian said to them in spiritspeak, the language of the necromancers. It was an inherited language, just like Parseltongue, and would allow him to speak to any spirit, dead or alive, within his radius. Currently, it was only a couple of meters. But their eyes widened and they obligingly continued on their way into the great hall without looking at him again.

Then the doors opened to reveal a splendid great hall. Candles floating gave the hall a great cheery mood, four house tables had never looked so clean and organized. There was more green, vines and tasteful ivy decorating the interior of the bare stone walls, and a breathtakingly black-and-white-starred night sky. Four tables were incredibly neat, the dishes arranged perfectly and the tablecloth without a crease. Harry entered with the other first years.

A hat was brought to the center of the great hall. It opened its mouth and broke out into song.

"Now you might not think I'm pretty,

But I have some stories to tell,

And they sure are witty,

Stories that ring true as a bell.

Brave Gryffindor chose Ravenclaw,

A woman wise beyond her years,

And Ravenclaw knew Hufflepuff,

Who loved ambitious Slytherin.

Together courage, knowledge,

Set out to do the task

Combined with persistence and ambition,

And created a school that would always last.

Without any of them it would not have been done.

Brave Gryffindor and ambitious Slytherin led the way,

Only made possible by Ravenclaw's knowledge,

And the persistence and loyalty of Hufflepuff.

Maybe you'll belong in Slytherin,

Where dwell the ambitious and great,

Perhaps in Hufflepuff,

You'll find your match in hard work and grace.

Then brave Gryffindor likes those with courage,

And will follow their code of honor,

And wise Ravenclaw liked those who treasured knowledge

Above all, not like any other.

Now they say Slytherin valued blood purity:

He wished for nothing of the kind.

For everyone to know magic culture was what he wanted,

And his heir accomplished that in time.

Now with the proper resolution

Of the founder's bitter quarrel:

Let us rejoice in this time of peace,

And may purity be a thing of ol'.

Talent is what is important,

So is purity of heart.

The qualities that each founder valued,

Is what truly sets people apart.

If you wish to judge someone,

Do not by what you see,

Talk and get to know them,

Inside is what is key.

That is why this sorting

Is so important

We can all remember to value

Characteristics of importance.

So put myself on!

I will decide.

Which of the great founders characteristics you best embody

And place you where you belong based on what's inside!

There was a great beat of silence but then applause rang through the hall. Hadrian was a bit shocked. Judging by the teachers' expressions, this not the usual content of the hat's song. The line about slytherin's heir accomplishing stuff—that was about Tom. He growled at himself for still responding so strongly to the thought of Tom. So absorbed in his thoughts, Hadrian only noticed the sorting when Hermione started shaking so hard she had to clench her fists. He had completely missed the first few sortings.


	7. Chapter 7: The Sorting Ceremony

"Granger, Hermione!" The hat called.

It spent a long time on her. But it eventually…

"GRYFFINDOR!"

A beaming Hermione went to join the red and gold table.

~*~HPLV~*~

"Longbottom, Neville!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

A scared looking Neville tried to run off with the hat. He quickly ran back amid gales of laughter.

The hat had not even touched Malfoy's head before it shouted "SLYTHERIN!"

Then it called,

"Potter, Hadrian!"

And the entire hall got quiet.

The sound of a pin dropping could be heard.

For a moment Hadrian thought it was because of his name but then he heard the doors to the great hall slam open.

Hadrian turned around as he felt the familiar aura enter the room. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but it was electrifying. The first years stumbled to get out of the way, as the Dark Lord himself strode through the great doors and into the hall.

There was a sudden scrapping of benches as everyone stood up.

The man hadn't changed. Not really. He still moved with a lithe and deadly grace that always seemed to follow him. But it had become even deadlier through the years. He had become a man, with more pronounced jawline and sharp brown eyes. He was tall. And for all his sixty years of age, he didn't look at day above thirty. Power dripped off the man. Hadrian saw many first years shivering at their first contact with such strong, dark magic.

Hadrian could sense it. And he could feel that, whatever brought the man here, that he was angry.

But just as the man strode past, a corner of his robe brushed Hadrian's hand. And their eyes met.

Hadrian would not be that easily discovered. Despite his quickened heartbeat and desire to present an impassive face, he quickly let fear bleed into his gaze. He opened his mouth a little and let it slack. Without a hint of slowing, the Dark Lord calmly made his way to the head of the table, taking the chair that was always empty and ready for him. Hadrian counted that as a victory.

All the attention in the hall was on Voldemort. The man drew people like flies to honey.

"Please be seated." His voice sent shivers down people's backs. It was strong and deep, a voice you could listen to for hours for it's texture and reassurance and undercurrents of danger. "You may continue with the sorting."

Hadrian closed his eyes. This was absolutely the worst timing.

"Potter, Hadrian!" McGonnagal called again.

Whispers, like he had heard every time his name was mentioned, rang throughout the hall. "Hadrian? Did he say Hadrian? _Potter_? No way."

He felt the back of his neck heat up at the scrutiny. But then the hat descended on his head to cover his eyes.

 _What do we have here? Oh my. A returning necromancer. Ah I have not had the pleasure of sorting one of your kind for many centuries. You have the distinct feel of being Slytherin, yes I do remember sorting you into that house._

 _Quite an ambitious youngster too. But where to put you?_

 _Courage, yes. You have not been afraid of many things in your life and have stuck to your own code quite adamantly. A thirst for knowledge as well. You have collected quite the mass of necromancy knowledge. Ambition… you tis the house you were sorted in, you have ample amounts of that._

 _So much courage, hmm yes, and a thirst to prove yourself, yes Slytherin was the right choice. It certainly made you great._

 _But this is a new sorting. And you have had quite a life since the last I'm afraid. A lot. Found a bit of complicated love, I see._

Are you always this nosey?

 _Well, its not everyday I get to sort the Dark Lord's lover… as he's watching._

Harry turned redder, if possible. "Will he hear this conversation?"

 _No, I cannot divulge a sorting. Why do you think Tom did not kill me when I was in Dumbledore's possession? Unless he is reading your mind right now, I do not think so. So, let's get back to business._

 _A lot of talent. Oh yes, a lot of talent. Not a bad mind either. Knowledge oh my goodness you have a lot of knowledge and the means to seek it as well. But what is this? You wish to be in Hufflepuff?_

Hard work is undervalued.

 _Oh it plays into your plans to be a Light wizard this time. Or at least pretend to be. Not that that's any of my business. And you want to bring that House back to its former glory? Aren't you afraid of being called names? Not respected? Sneered at?_

Not really, Harry thought. It would actually suit his needs to be underestimated, and avoid the Dark Lord. One of Tom's weaknesses was his arrogance. He chronically underestimated people in other houses.

 _How very_ ambitious _and_ brave _of you!_

Ok, now the hat was just messing with him.

 _It's not about bravery. I want to be in Hufflepuff._ Hadrian thought. 

_Quite ambitious. Quite ambitious indeed. A cunning plan already in mind… and to gain honour for an entire house._

This was taking too long. Whispers rang like wildfire across the hall.

 _Are you sure about Slytherin? Slytherin could make you great._

 _Definitely not slytherin._ Harry thought firmly. He thought back of the memories in those rooms, in the common room. Not just for his plan, or his damn ambition of needing to do something completely separate from Tom's aims. A small part of himself, selfishly, just did not want to deal with Slytherin again if it was not with Tom. _Not slytherin._

 _Well if you're sure…_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Stunned, Hadrian just sat there. Ms McGonagall pulled off the hat. "Off you go then." She said, not unkindly, peering at him over her no-nonsense spectacles.

Harry hardly dared look around. It was in times like these he felt the full drawbacks of the necromancer solution. He wasn't an adult in a child's body, he was a child—just with memories of the past. He certainly felt like one as he made his way to thered and gold table. He was in a haze, like he was watching everything from underwater. It was shock. This could not be happening.

A grinning Hermione was waving him over and Hadrian quickly took a seat beside her. "Well done!" She said, beaming at Harry. He managed a small smile in return.

Wasn't the hat supposed to take his feelings into consideration?

"Weasley, Ronald!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Hadrian barely suppressed his groan. Things just got better. The lanky redhead was accosted by a pair of redhead twins as he came. They each grabbed one of his arms and sat down hard, trapping Ron, and were chattering on at a famous rate. It seemed the Gryffindors were the only lively table, though they had the least number of students. Other than him and Ron, there was a boy named Dean and a named girl named Parvati. Her twin had been sorted into Ravenclaw, and she was crying about it. An upper year prefect was trying to comfort her. The majority of the children were in Hufflepuff with most pureblood children in Slytherin.

"Do you want the Dark Lord to see you crying?" The prefect finally said.

With a gasp, Parvati stopped crying.

Hermione was nervously speaking a hundred miles a minute. "I can't wait for classes to start. I mean, they will start tomorrow, but I am looking forward to casting my first spell. We can't do magic outside of school. And there are so many classes. Transfiguration, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Herbology, History of Magic, and Astronomy! I've memorized all my course books of course, but I wonder if it'll be enough."

"Hermione." Hadrian said. "Breathe."

"Right. Thanks Harry."

"Eat something. You'll need it for class."

The beam she gave him was disproportionate to his little words. He ducked his head and followed his own advice. The food was good. After years of preparing food for himself magically, this was much better. He never excelled at cooking spells the way Tom had. The Dark Lord cooking had always amused him. Speaking of the Dark Lord… he was gone. He had disappeared sometime after the sorting and when everyone started eating.


	8. Chapter 8: Welcome Back

A/N:Warning for... idk what. But this fic is rated M. And it's HPLV. So... just so you know.

~*~HPLV~*~

After dinner, there were some short announcements and the prefects were leading the children up to their common rooms. Hadrian had almost reflexively taken the stairs down to the dungeons before he caught himself. Where was his self-control? He was behaving like a child, acting without thinking things through. This would not bode well for him if he intended to truly continue his life and not merely live a new one.

But as luck would have it, he had no sooner stepped out of the hall than a Slytherin prefect stopped him. "Hadrian Potter?" The boy said, face a perfect mask of politeness.

Hadrian was immediately on guard. "Yes?"

"The Headmaster would like to see you. About your… guardians." He said the last word with a little sneer.

Harry gulped, schooling his features into that of a freighted child. He was a bit scared. Headmaster Snape was not the Dark Lord, but still a man with power. It would not do to get his attention either. Hadrian looked around for help. But the prefects were quite busy leading groups of children and those close by tried to avoid his eyes.

"Follow me." The prefect said. Hadrian had no choice but to follow.

The boy seemed a little familiar… the memory clicked. Wood. Oliver Wood. He had seen the boy talking to Malfoy on the train. He did a light brush of occulemecy into the boy's mind. Somehow, the Dark Lord was there. He had something planned. And suddenly, Harry didn't know how, but Voldemort knew. Tom Knew.

But when? He hadn't known in the hall, when they passed. It had happened in the office.

Tom had been angry. Possibley Tom was punishing Snape for something. And he had found out about Harry's strange parentage. But how would Tom realize…

"Boomslang." Wood said as they reached the stone gargoyles.

Harry mustered his wits. Everything was moved ahead of schedule. The last thing he wanted was a conversation with the legimency-skilled Severus Snape. But to have the Dark Lord in the room? This was awful.

But who knew? He allowed a small smirk to adorn his lips.

This could be _fun_.

~*~HPLV~*~

The moment the door opened, and he saw the three bound figures, he knew he was doomed.

The circular office was neat and utilitarian. Empty of the nick nacks of it's predecessor, it had a large desk and a smaller one beside it. Instead of telescopes and phoenix perches this one had an elevated alcove with potions kits, state of the art cauldron and potion supplies under the starry glass round observatory with a perfect view of the moon.

But in front of the two imposing master desks, were three bound muggles. Two were enormous and fat, the third incredibly thin and stork-like. They all showed signs of recent torture.

"How kind of you to join us, Mr. Potter." Voldemort hissed. A wandless wave of his hand and the office door was shut, leaving Hadrian alone with the Dark Lord and the Headmaster Snape. To his credit, the sallow man was impassive as he looked on the scene. "Or should I say, _Hadrian_?"

The Dark Lord stood. Did he know? Or didn't he? Hadrian swallowed as the man approached.

"What did you do to my aunt and uncle?" Hadrian asked, pretending to be scared.

There was the distinct smell of urine in the air. Dudley's pants were a darker shade around his butt than the rest of his legs. Blood was dripping from each of their noses. Oh yes, Hadrian had a perfectly good idea of what had happened.

The man stopped. Just centimeters from him. Harry's face was only slightly above the man's navel. He could smell his scent: a bit of forest, rain, and dry snake. But he refused to look up. He knew the man could feel the heat of his breath. "They are only restrained. Mostly sane." The man paused. "Though that could change."

The muggles struggled harder. Though that was hardly concerning. Harry barely knew these people. Hadn't spent more than ten minutes total in their company. The moment he was able, he had altered their memory and lived in his own place. Nearing his eleventh birthday, he had returned to live in the Dursley's home, just as a farce for the Hogwarts letter. And they were there as a farce for Miss Macmillan. And if Voldemort had performed legimency as he had thought...

"You know." Harry whispered. Everything he had planned. It was all ruined now.

The Dark Lord's aura was everywhere. Dark, oppressive, seductive, it was angry and moved in great gales of power.

Harry's neck bent slightly forward and the tip of his nose brushed Lord Voldemort. His eyes closed as he felt the thin fabric of Voldemort's dress shirt brush his face.

"On your knees."

Harry looked up. Into those red eyes that were burning.

"No."

A strand of magic lightly brushed his cheek, leaving a stinging trail. A cruel smile was tucked into those thinned lips, before " _Crucio_."

Harry collapsed on the floor. It was so painful. Almost more painful than anything he had experienced, except maybe the rebirth of his soul into the body of Harry Potter. He had been under the crucio once, in his second year, but he had fought back, pushed, but he couldn't now even if he wanted, and he forced himself to not retaliate. And it kept going. Thirty seconds, then one minute… and somewhere along the line Hadrian screamed. And then finally, finally, it stopped.

He opened his eyes to find himself on his back. He had drooled out of the side of his mouth and he tasted blood. He took a few deep breaths, ragged ones, he realized tears had come down his face and his body was not responding quickly to his control.

Interestingly, Snape had turned very pale. Was the man also shaking slightly, or was Hadrian suffering more from the crucio than he thought.

"It appears that Mr. Potter requires a lesson in manners." Lord Voldemort said. "Leave us."

Snape left, but not before sneaking Hadrian an indescribable look. Was that a hint of regret? Hadrian thought about what that could be about. Did his torture bother Snape? Why?

The door shut. He was alone with the Dark Lord.

~*~HPLV~*~

"I don't see why you're so angry." Hadrian began, quietly.

Dark magic manifested itself and pure power threw him back until he crashed into a wall. His vision swam and his back felt like it was burning.

But when it stopped he was on his feet and his own magic materialized around him, becoming strands that reached out and battled the dark magic around him. His magic was dark, yes, but with a thrilling light undercurrent. If the dark lord was fire, Hadrian was lightning.

"Really-" He continued, with a little amusement blending into his tone. Hadrian knew it had to kill Tom to be so much older but still not be in control.

"Silence." The dark lord seethed. "You chose to be reborn, and you chose it in your own manner. I see that it is all too fitting for you to reap the pain of your follies. This is your punishment."

Hadrian glared up at the Dark Lord. "You punish me for my absence, which by the way, was a period of time I had no control over, or time I needed to grow up. You also punish me for choosing my method of immortality, just because it wasn't what _you_ wanted."

"Ah, but you are forgetting child, that _you_ made the choice to have the method of immortality that would require the absence. So the absence is your fault." The Dark Lord was not finished. "But that is not why I am angry. Your method naturally required a lot of time to find a new body, and you required time to grow. You have been alive and well for eleven years. That could have been… tolerable. However, you choose to keep your return a secret, to spite me. That is why I am punishing you."

"You're wrong." Hadrian digested the information. It was… sweet of the Dark Lord to share his thoughts so. They had missed each other. "I didn't keep secret out of any desire to harm you. I was concerned about how interaction with you would be possible, as a child. You would use any weakness of mine to your advantage. Your current manners are more than enough to justify those concerns, aren't they?"

Voldemort smirked. "But child, your current state is all your own doing." If he had allowed Lord Voldemort to resurrect him with the resurrection stone and the ritual of bone of the father, he would have returned to a body at the correct age. However, Hadrian refused to be returned like a homolculous, to be in a body so inferior.

"Don't call me child!"

"But that is what you are. Look at you."

Harry's fist clenched. "It doesn't mean I'm not the same person."

"No. But you have all the emotional and self-control of a boy your age, hence, child." The Dark Lord chuckled, suddenly. "It is a form of endearment. Unless you prefer boy? Sugar baby?"

Hadrian's hiss was response enough for that. "I think you are taking too much delight from this predicament." And the dark lord chuckled, eyes following Hadrian as he jumped up and paced. "I wonder if you didn't plan for me all along to die earlier so I would be reborn younger than you." Harry snarled.

"You were always younger than me." Voldemort's innocent face didn't fool him.

"By five months." Hadrian retorted. His lips curled as an amusing thought struck him. "I'm eleven. And you are… what? Going on eighty?"

The Dark Lord did not look amused. Magic tendrils were leisurely prowling the room, brushing his own strands as they passed. His eyes locked on his own. "And you are _mine_." He hissed. The Dark Lord prowled towards him, closing the distance that had appeared when he had been thrown against the wall. Hadrian took an involuntary step back, and found that to be a very bad choice when Voldemort was now between him and the door.

Red eyes studied him closely, analyzing every expression. Likely, Voldemort was considering whether he should push the topic of Hadrian keeping his return a secret; or, just get revenge behind the scenes.

"Why come to Hogwarts? I assume your plan was to reach full power, perhaps even be of age, making a name for yourself, before revealing yourself to me." Tom sneered. "Why risk coming here?"

"What is to say that I can't have missed you?"

Lord Voldemort's eyes darkened. "If that were true, you would have given some warning in forty years of absence." He hissed. He caressed his wand lovingly, running the tip up Harry's jacket lapel. "I can give you a larger punishment if you so wish. You have gotten off practically unscathed."

"Yes, because a crucio-" Harry was cut off as he was hit with another pain spell, not as severe as the unforgivable, that made his chest constrict hotly. Harry remained stubbornly on his feet though he leaned against the wall. "-is nothing."

"Stubborn." The Dark Lord remarked. "You have evaded the question skillfully, but I doubt you wish to endure more pain. After all… your child body will not handle it."

Harry scowled at the man. He refused to crane his neck up like a dolt. Harry walked to the desk and swish-flicked his wand to levitate himself onto the desk. Then he turned so he was face-chest to the man. It was difficult when his hands were shaking so much. "I didn't think you would discover me so soon. If Snape had not messed up whatever he had, you would not even be here today." He motioned at the struggling muggles, "And they would not be on your radar."

The Dark Lord raised his eyebrows. "You thought your farce would last for six years. Seven, to graduation."

"It'll last as long as it needs to. For as long as Harry Potter is more useful than Hadrian Evans."

Voldemort's eyes, instead of zoning out in contemplation, narrowed in anger. "No. You will not be following that course of action."

Had the Dark Lord already seen his plan? He had forgotten how quick the man was. "Says who? I can do what I want- I'm Harry Potter!"

"You are mine." The Dark Lord emphasized with a tightening hold on his neck, "The Light do not get to have you." His eyes darkened.

Angrily, Harry swiped the hand away. "The Light won't _have_ me. I am _dark_." Harry declared. "But if I play it right, I will have the Light."

"Ah, but I have requirement of you, much more than the Light. It is only a matter of time before the Light is mine- I will not give you."

"Then you are arrogant, and underestimating your enemies. The Light know about your horcruxes- they are hunting them down. You think the attacks on death eater mansions are after gold? It is a ruse, to cover their real goal. You are _vulnerable_ and I will use my luck in this life to gain control of that threat."

The lamp behind Voldemort exploded. One moment it was there, the next it was a thousand pieces. Harry ducked but barely shielded himself. A few pieces cut him, he could feel the stinging sensation but ignored them.

"And you shall never patronize me." The Dark Lord hissed.

Harry swallowed. There were few lines in their relationship. And he had just crossed one. Calling him arrogant and mentioning his horcruxes, in the same breath no less,

The dark lord advanced towards him. "You will do no such thing."

"Then we can just watch as the Light get closer to hunting down your horcruxes, as they recruit and get stronger, all because _you cannot share!"_

"Do not talk to me about _sharing_ boy, as it has been forty years since you last shared anything."

"I am sorry." Harry said quietly. He didn't remember the last time he saw Voldemort so worked up. "But it was necessary."

The man visibly reigned in his temper. "I had no choice then, but I have a choice now. I will not allow it, and that is that."

Harry cried, "You cannot do that."

"Can't I?" Voldemort said, crooning. His voice was soft, deadly. "How will the Light react when they find out their young leader is a necromancer… and a parseltongue?"

Now it was Harry's turn to be silent. His mind quickly thought of the answers, to the questions meant to make him draw these conclusions, nonetheless.

"They will throw you out, before you can even become a member. They will mark you as _mine_."

He could try to argue more, or control things from behind the scenes. However, he also knew that at his stage, and age, it would be difficult to influence things from the side. It would have to be with the Dark Lord's consent.

Something he never previously took too seriously.

This was not how he thought the conversation would go. In fact, this wasn't even supposed to be this conversation.

"I am yours." Hardian said, cupping the man's face with his hands. He enjoyed how he could move the man's face in any direction that he wanted. It also made studying those features all the more easy. The eye grew red at his declaration. "And you are mine." He curled his fingers around the man's face.

Slowly, the man pulled away. He took a step back nonchalantly and Harry took the time to place some control on his emotions. He watched as the Dark Lord paced in the study. They both took the time to calm down.

"I suppose Hogwarts will do as well as any environment for you to grow and resume your old powers." Voldemort continued. Harry was immediately suspicious. It was not like Voldemort to let a topic drop. However, Harry didn't know how to counter it. "However, I do not approve of the company you are keeping."

"Hermione is quite brilliant, actually. I don't care if she is muggleborn." Harry said.

"It is not blood that matters. You, more than anyone, should know that. What irritates me is that you are consorting with Gryffindors. Families of the Light."

"I _am_ a Potter." Maybe that was a stupid and dangerous thing to remind the Dark Lord of. He was not completely clear on the history of every detail that passed in the last forty years. He did know that Tom had killed James and Lily Potter himself. Why, he couldn't remember. It was probably stupid to remind him that he was the son of his old enemies, but Hadrian would stand by it.

The Dark Lord's eyes darkened in appreciation. "The lamb of the light."

"I'm not a lamb. It's lion."

"Have you read Narnia? What is sacrificed on the stone table?"

"Well, that was a retelling of Jesus. And I wasn't born in a barn."

Harry turned to leave, feeling the conversation, for now at least, was over.

"Be careful of what you pretend to be. People can get tangled in their own webs."

Harry didn't dignify that with a response.

"And child?"

Harry turned around as he was opening the door. The Dark Lord was looking at him like he was fascinated by what he was seeing, a mixture of amusement and annoyance, but mostly like he had won some great prize.

" _Welcome back."_


	9. Chapter 9: Necromancy in the Morning

First day of classes dawned bright and early. Hadrian woke up and cast a monitoring spell on himself with his wand. It came back better than he expected. He had no lasting effects from the Crucio. Last night, he'd retreated to the room of requirement to heal his wounds. He couldn't show up to Gryffindor Tower shaking like a wreck. To hi surprise, his cherry wand was specifically good at calming nerves, and even with a dose of the Dark Lord's crucio, he was not shaking at all the next morning. It was just awful at repairing bruises. His wounds were fixed but the brown blob on his hip just would not disappear.

He had woken earlier than both the other boys. The second spell he cast was a silencing charm. He got ready for his daily necromancy exercises. Rebirth was not a happy-ever-after thing, for the only thing that was preserved was his memories—and personality, to some extent. His magic was still essentially the same, as it was his soul that had been naturally recycled and given to a new body. But just because he was born with power and the knowledge to cast spells didn't mean he could do it. When he was just born, he barely knew how to see. Sounds were strange, light more so. He could not move his fingers in enough coordination to poke his own foot, or adjust a blanket, much less cast advanced spells.

He had to train himself, teach himself again, practicing all the time. It was difficult, more so because he was starting out wandless. But he could not buy a wand from Olivanders without arousing suspicion and simply stealing a wand would be next to impossible if he could not do magic. So it was with wandless magic that he started. He concentrated every single day repeating incantations and imagining magic. It took a year. An entire year and two months, before he cast his first incendio. Then another month came wingardium leviosa. Soon, all the other first year and simple transfigurations and charms came to him. His magical core had not developed fully, as his physical body was not strong enough to house that much energy.

He was really, well, weak.

But the one magic he did have, native to him, that did not require physical poweress and a certain level of physical maturity, was Speech. Necromancers were famous for their ability to communicate with the dead. Hadrian was afraid of it at first, believing the tales that said the dead ghosts called on actually preyed on the life of the living necromancer and that is why they were able to appear. A necromancer was a walking ritual. Instead, speech with the dead was a natural magic, surprisingly similar to parseltongue. It was passed down in bloodlines, can also be used for many dark rituals, and best of all, was inherent and intuitive.

Spirits, as Hadrian had discovered from conversations with the dead as well as his own trip beyond, had great freedom in the great beyond. They could travel wherever they wanted, for as long as they wanted. It was not quite the same as being alive, as they could only talk in spiritspeak, which mostly only other spirits could understand. It turned out that not all spirits could understand each other, only those that were on the same… wavelength, as it were. A wavelength was basically a parallel dimension, only felt by those in it at the time. It was a blessing for spirits who wanted peace and solitude to drift in solace, or for ghosts who wished to join a jolly good gathering in the great beyond. Everyone was in the same space and time (neither of those things existed in the great beyond, Hadrian had found) but no one disturbed one another.

Spiritspeak was something you could communicate in with no boundaries whether physical or spiritual if you wanted a message to get across, it did. Instantly. It was something you could only communicate using your soul, as when you were a spirit and all you had was your soul.

Necromancers could somehow spiritspeak and communicate with the dead. They had a sort of automatic frequency adjuster that they could use to "feel" the vibes in a certain place, and tap into that frequency, to speak with the spirits that felt like being in their own spacetime. However, Necromancers were bound by space and time as they had physical bodies. Time passed for them even though it did not for their companions.

All this to say that as soon as Harry could speak, by the age of one, he would close his eyes and reach for his necromancy powers, despite not having any wizard powers. All he had to do was meditate and then he could sort of "float" into the world of the dead, the Otherworld. There were many frequencies of existence there, and if one in particular feltl "right", like a hook in his mind, he could pull on it. And when he opened his eyes then, a spirit would appear that only he could see and hear, and he could talk to it.

He did this everyday as it was great practice for his focus. And he could learn all sorts of interesting things from the spirits. Cooking recipies from the times of the Egyptians, gossip on the old world's leaders, and majestic spellcasting from the times of Ancient Chinese Empire.

In Hogwarts, he could feel the castle buzzing with the energy of the Otherworld. The concentration of magic as well as the amount of memories in this place would make it very attractive to a variety of spirits.

That morning, as Harry "floated" he felt many things reaching out for him. There were many "hooks" he could choose to go on. But one in particular caught his inner eye, as it does. He opened his eyes to see a beautiful young girl with her legs tucked under her materialize on his bed.

He looked around, but it seemed she was the only one on this frequency. She desired aloneness then?

"Hello. I hope I am not disturbing you. I am Hadrian, a necromancer of the Evangelica-Valduez line."

She stared at him with wide, doe-like eyes. Then she screamed. A piercing scream that hit him. When he blinked. And she was right in his face, her teeth were all jagged lines of sharp, flesh-tearing bone that descended upon him. She was only blue incandescence but Hadrian could feel the deep chill she induced as she tried to devour him whole. Stumbling, he tried to close his eyes and exit the frequency. But her screams and gralls were distracting and Harry felt himself shifting, trying to run away. He couldn't run, or course, it would just be to his dormates and they would not be able to see what he was seeing.

He knew spirits like hers. Ones that were lost. They suffered such tragic deaths that they emulate their attackers either in denial or in revenge. They would not move on. And any frequency they inhabited was not empty because they wanted solitude, but simply because no one else wanted to be there.

He knew there were necromancers that dedicated their lives to freeing spirits like hers. Some went mad. Some trapped in the dimension and there for so long with nothing but their screams for company.

Then was where necromancy practice came in. Concentrating his power and shifting his hands, Harry said a word of power and drew a rune in the air. The shape remained in the air, a glowing thing in front of his face. When she descended for another attack, it stretched under her force, but did not break. She gave a cry of fury.

He was lucky. This one was weak and had never encountered this rune before. The sneaky old spirits who had known magic in their lifetime could break apart even the best necromancer's defences.

Harry could try to control her and banish her to another frequency, but that was always the last resort. It took too much power. It was likely how the muggle superstition of exorcism started. But it was painful. Both for the spirit and the necromancer.

While the rune held, Harry added another effect with a second word of power, this one would give off visual illusions of tiny sparks. Just casting that left Harry drained. Closing his eyes stubbornly, he willed himself back to floating. And there was some resistance. Harry saw that the avenging spirit had created a shell of emotion surrounding this frequency so he could not leave. With a breath of his own magic, he dissolved the barrier as it crumbled under his power. Then, he forced his mind to move into floating and then away from that place.

Panting, he opened his eyes to an empty bed. Slightly paranoid, he looked around. Then he cast a detection charm, very useful spell he picked up from a spirit that was a necromancer ten thousand years ago, if any spirits were nearby. Only when the spell came up negative, did he relax. He collapsed back onto his bed, blankets a mess around him in his one-sided tussle.

"Oh god." He groaned.

His clothes stuck to him, soaked in sweat. His hands were shaking and his breath was uneven. Holding out his Cherry wand, he waved it in the same pattern that cured his cruciatus exposure. The tremors stopped, the spell was amplified tenfold by his wand. He grinned. He waved the wand again to get rid of the sweat. Nothing happened.

Harry stared at his wand.

Was it giving him attitude?

That was ridiculous.

He sighed and peeled his clothes off. He still had time for a shower before breakfast anyways.

~*~ Dark Rituals ~*~

The boys dormitory was practically all space, with only three beds. Dean, Ron, and Harry had the entire place to themselves and Ron has wasted no time in plastering posters of flying men in orange robes zooming everywhere. Dean had been so shocked at the moving pictures that he had almost forgotten to put his own soccer posters up so they were a little squished in between the flying ones. Harry had caught Ron poking the muggle posters, trying to get them to move.

They had half-heartedly tried to make plans to bring a table and a TV (once it was explained to Ron) and he suggested a wizarding wireless. They also contemplated everything from a mini quidditch pitch (also had to be explained) to ball pit. It gave them a good laugh even if it wouldn't happen, with the amount of classes they had.

And speaking of classes, Dean and Ron were awful at getting to them. They couldn't tell left from right or up from down as they ran down the staircases. Some went down only to come up again and swung to connect to bits that went in a completely different direction than you started with. Harry knew the way, but didn't have the heart to do any bossing around so early in the morning, and was content to walk bemused behind the two boys.

When the boys finally managed to get themselves downstairs, the red and gold table was full. Hermione and a girl named Parvati were already enjoying breakfast. They had saved them seats. When Hermione saw them she waved.

"I can't wait for classes." Was Hermione's greeting. Parvati rolled her eyes. Being the only two Gryffindor girls that year, they were forced to spend a lot of time together. But Parvati couldn't seem to care less about class, peeking at an issue of witch weekly under the breakfast table.

"Morning Hermione, Parvati." Harry said dutifully. Dean chimed the same greeting while Ron turned a strange colour behind his mouthful of eggs and ham.

"Ew. Gross!" Parvati screeched. "You don't have to say hi, it's fine." She said hurriedly.

Ron and the rest of the Gryffindors looked relieved, though for different reasons.

"We have transfiguration first, with the hufflepuffs. Then charms with the ravenclaws. And herbiology-"

"Hermione, we know our schedule. All first years have the same one." Parvati said bored, having heard this speech a couple of times.

"Let's go to them together. Hermione, you can show us the way." Harry said. More for Ron and Dean's sake than his. But from the look Hermione shot him, he may have helped one extra person.

~*~HPLV~*~

Transfiguration with McGonnagall was interesting, as she demonstrated advanced transfiguration as well as the animangus transformation. With a jolt, Harry realized that though he had been practicing casting every second, he had not even tried for an animangus form. That had been a magic he had not mastered in his previous life either.

He had remembered suggesting it to Tom, to make it a race to see who could achieve it the fastest—in one weekend. But to his disappointment, the boy had already figured out how to do it. But try as he might, he could not get the young dark lord to show him, or tell him his animal.

"What's the point of being an animal if everyone knowsit's you?" Tom inquired with a smirk.

"Well, you'd be awfully cute." Hadrian said.

Harry still remembered the way the boy had glared at him for that.

"I know what you're trying to do."

"You are! You are something cute! A kitten?" Hadrian had been quick. "No. I got it. You're a hamster! A cute little-"

Tom moved to curse him but Harry had already blocked. Abandoning their magic, it turned into a wrestling match while they rolled on the floor.

Harry had forgotten all about it. Until now.

He would need instruction on it, of course. It would be easier with an animangus' help. But it wasn't like he'd ask Tom. The man was smug enough already about how he was a child. If he came asking for lessons, Harry could imagine the way Tom's head would swell. No, he would find another instructor, or a book. That was how Tom figured it out anyways.

In fact, he could head to the library tonight after dinner.

The next class was charms. Harry absolutely adored Flitwick. The man taught well, was amazingly knowledgeable on theory, and had a flair to his spellcasting that was breathtaking. Harry could honestly say the man's charms were on par with the Dark Lord, perhaps even better, for Tom had great control and fineness, but he tended to rely on his strength. This little guy had control, yes, but he also knew how to shape his magic _just enough_ and then let go.

"How cool is Flitwick." Harry said, awestruck out of that class.

"I know!" Hermione was agreeing exuberantly. "And when I got my feather to float on the first try…"

"Did you see how he squealed?"

Harry laughed with all of them as Ron and Dean did a enactment of the excitable professor. With his heart soaring, they headed to lunch.

A/N: Thanks to my reviewers. This one is for you. I have published a one-shot of Harry/Tom on my profile. Check it out.


End file.
